Dear Me
by Ember411
Summary: Dave Karofsky opens a letter he sent to himself years ago, a week after he almost ended his life.


**I wrote this after being inspired by** **Linneagb's story, _Dear David._**

* * *

I arrived home earlier than normal. Nick was bringing over his girlfriend and her parents tonight for a family dinner. Nick and the girl he was always daydreaming about thought it would be nice for all of us parents to get together and get to know one another.

My husband was a better cook than I was. So while Scott was out gathering the food to prepare I was helping to clean up the place with Nick. The doorbell rang and Nick went to go grab it. He returned minutes later filing through the letters until he pulled one out.

"It's for you, Dad." Nick said.

"Who's it from?"

Nick studied the letter and his face twisted with perplexity. "From...you?"

I made the same face as I placed the broom against the wall. "From me to me?" I asked. Nick nodded and handed the note to me. I looked at the letter and saw how ratty and upbeat it looked. The letter read my old address in Lima though. My dad probably got it and had it forward to my new address in New York.

The door opened and Scott called out for help to bring in the groceries. "Dad?" Nick spoke up.

"Uh, go help Papa." I said. "I'm just going to look at this."

"Sure." Nick said and walked away.

* * *

Once I was alone in the room I opened the letter and pulled out a piece of folded up paper. It was wrinkly and smelled a bit weird. I unfolded the letter and turned the paper to read what the content said.

 _Dear You.._

 _My name is David Paul Karofsky._

 _Yes, it's you. But I'm 2013. Not 2023._

 _I'm writing this a week after we attempted suicide. Kurt Hummel suggested that we do this. Then, if we wanted too, have it saved somewhere and open it ten years and read what is inside._

 _If you are reading this, you've made it. You've made it. You've made it passed the bullies and hopefully there are no more bullies in today's world (your today's world, not mine obviously) and hopefully everyone is compassionate to one another. Hopefully you are much happier than I am these days still in the dark ages of 2013._

 _Do you remember that conversation that Kurt had with you? How was Nick's first football game? Did he wear our team's shirt or your husband or partner's shirt? (Let's hope our team!). How is being a sports agent going? Any big names yet that you work with?_

 _Are you still friends with Kurt Hummel? I hope you are. He his the most kindest person one could ever meet and after everything we've gone through, yourself and I, we owe it to him to stay friends with the guy after all the shit I gave him._

 _Please remember future me. Please remember the night you almost took your own life. The night that almost caused Nick to not be born. The night that almost made mom and dad bury their only child. The night that almost made your future partner marry someone else._

 _Be someone who can comfort anyone who struggles with their sexuality the way that you struggled yourself. Be someone that Nick can look up too._

 _I hope you're happy, Dave._

 _I hope_ _we're_ _happy._

* * *

Memories flowed back with each word that I read. It's been over ten years. I tried to find the letter to open ten years after the night I almost died, but it was lost somewhere. I searched every room, every corner, every couch and chair and bed and cabinet. No where. I thought I might had accidentally thrown it out. I remembered the words thankfully.

Over the next couple of years I slowly had forgotten the message. By the time Nick was born about seventeen years ago I had forgotten the message but remember the words.

Nick popped in a few minutes later. "Dad?"

I looked up at him. "Oh, yeah?"

"You gonna finish cleaning up? Tracy and her parents are coming over in two hours."

"Sure thing, bud."

* * *

We were just about ready for Tracy and her parents to come over. Any moment now. Scott was in the back finishing up dessert. "So, what's Tracy like?" I asked Nick.

"She's outgoing and bubbly, but she's got some sass to her too." Nick laughed. "She's into performing, specifically dancing. She wants to either be a dancer or dance teacher. She knits hats, scarfs and gloves and donates them to any center that helps those in the LGBTQ community that are homeless. Last year she got arrest fives for protesting."

"Wow, that's insane."

"First time was thirty days in jail. Second to fifth time was three months in jail plus three hundred hours of community service. She found volunteer work within the community she was standing up for that the state of New York saw as legitimate service work. She also likes fashion. She likes to combined clothing together though, not necessarily design a new thing. She plays the piano."

"Anything you don't like about her?"

"Her love for any sort of reality television." Nick rolled his eyes. "God, that girl can name every episode she has ever seen of every reality show she watched with her Papa."

"What does she look like?"

"She looks almost identical to her Papa. Chestnut brown hair and glasz eyes.."

"What eyes?"

"Glasz? That was she told me. You know how some people have blue-green eyes? Or blue-gray eyes? Or green-gray? Glasz eyes are blue, green and gray mixed together." Nick's face turned a bright red. "She's really beautiful. But her love is a lot more beautiful."

"That's good."

* * *

The sound of a car was pulling up and Nick nearly jumped with excitement. "That's Tracy!" He smiled. "I'll get the door."

"Don't fall on your face, buddy." I laughed at the excited boy. Nick was out of the room and I called out to Scott. "Scott, Tracy's here!"

 _"One minute!"_

I could hear Nick greeting Tracy from the other room. She sounded very sweet. She said her parents were finding another parking spot down the street. Their footsteps came towards the dining room. "Dad?"

I turned from placing the last plate down and met with Nick and the girl, Tracy.

"Dad, this is Tracy. Tracy, this is my Dad."

"Hello," She smiled sweetly and held her hand out to shake.

I was frozen. His face was frozen. Minus the lips. The pale skin, those familiar eyes, that familiar hair tone.

For a moment I said, "Kurt?"

She tilted her head to the side, albeit perplexed. "You know my Dad?"

"I'm-I'm sorry, what?" I came back to the moment.

"You know my Dad?" She asked me again. "Not many people named Kurt."

Before I could even think of a way to respond to her, a voice called in. "Tracy? Nick?"

"Over here, Papa!" Tracy called out.

Soon enough a man walked in. Dark, gelled hair and hazel eyes. If it weren't for his bow-tie than I would of assumed it was a twin. Actually, most likely a long lost twin that _he_ didn't even know he had. "Blaine Anderson?"

"Dave?" Blaine asked me.

Not too long after, Tracy's older twin walked in. "Karofsky? _"_

"Kurt Hummel?"

"Wait...do you guys know one another?" Nick asked.

"Wait, this is Karofsky?" Tracy questioned.

"You know my Dad?" Nick looked at her.

"Well...I've heard stories." She said. "Mostly good ones."

"Wow," I said. "You...and Kurt, your dad, look identical."

"Well she's got mostly me, but she's very much Blaine when it comes to performing and crafting her knits." Kurt admired. "Hepburn is mostly Blaine with my sense of fashion."

"Wow," Blaine smiled. "What are the odds of this? Our kids getting together after years of losing contact."

"Destiny! I knew it!" Tracy laughed. She sniffed a bit. "Is that your Papa's food? It's already dancing on my tongue!"

* * *

The night was well spend. It was great to catch up with Kurt and Blaine again. Tracy is a joy, too. She and Nick remind me of Scott and myself, and Blaine and Kurt.

At the end of the night the Anderson-Hummels were getting ready to go back to their apartment. While Blaine and Scott chatted and Nick and Tracy said a lip locking goodbye, I pulled Kurt aside and spoke briefly.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

I pulled the letter out from a drawer and handed it to him. "Read it."

Kurt opened the letter a bit suspicious and read it. He smiled throughout and at the end looked at me. "When did you get this?"

"Today."

"The odds of this, plus our children together, are what?"

"A hundred million chances I guess."

"So, Karofsky? Are you happy?"

I smiled and nodded.

Yes.

I am happy.


End file.
